


THUD

by Buntheridon



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Casual Sex, Dalaran, F/M, Fairshaw, Feelings Realization, Flynn is unable to say no, Humor, M/M, More silly than hot though, Multi, Pansexual Character, Rogue class hall, Smut, Tacky euphemisms and insinuations, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, World of Warcraft: Legion, magic shenanigans, rogues - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25898356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buntheridon/pseuds/Buntheridon
Summary: Flynn decides to become an Uncrowned member one expansion too late. He’s heard whispers about a secret way to enter the sewers but for some reason he seems to only enter in brief albeit enjoyable encounters with Dalaran’s shopkeepers.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Everyone, Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Comments: 14
Kudos: 39





	THUD

There was nothing in the Underbelly. No secret doors, no hidden entrances, no weirdly glowing runes opening into staircases if you danced in a specific way. He had tried. Those runes just glowed there like nobody’s business and a random tauren said _kek_ before taking a swing at him with his axe. The only activity there was to dodge and fight off all these strangers who kept attacking him for no reason. Most of them weren’t even assassins. Someone mentioned something about a rat. More than likely there were vermin in the sewers but that didn’t really explain why they were hitting _him._ Or each other.

Captain Flynn Fairwind decided to try his plan B on the surface of the floating mage city. Flailing and slapping off the challengers like a cloud of annoying insects he darted up the stairs and into the bright February morning sunlight over Dalaran’s streets. 

”Right. So, it has to be one of these shops,” he muttered to himself earning a curious glance from a passing mage – the citizens were all mages. Except the hidden rogues he was determined to find.

Dalaran was a big city, and even bigger on the inside for some wacky wizardy reasons. Arriving here on his vacation from the Boralus island expeditions he’d been leading successfully for the better part of last year was a spur of the moment decision. He had his reasons. Mostly they consisted of impressing the Stormwind Spymaster, if he was being honest. When he wasn’t, he convinced himself that a formal and proper training as a rogue would be beneficial for his career in the Alliance. He had learned to use swords because the other option had been to get hauled off a ship in the middle of the ocean - or worse. His skills were nothing clever or graceful, just survivalist smashing by instinct.

He had heard of the Uncrowned in passing remarks that always went quiet when he tried to press for more information. Once it had been Shaw, on other occasions he had eavesdropped rogues in his ship on their way to gathering Azerite. It seemed there was a particular password or a sign to get into hidden passageways, and that some civilians were in on the secret or assassins were posing as civilians.

Flynn chose one building arbitrarily and stepped in. _Tanks for Everything_ was a blacksmithing shop and a place to train weapon making. It looked like a slow morning, no other patrons about, only the two smiths he saw working there. He approached an elf with long silvery hair working at an anvil, trying to think how to present his business.

”Excuse me,” he opened, squaring his shoulders for the man was a head taller than him. The elf stopped hammering and turned around, peculiar turquoise eyes glowing with millennia of experience. He was strikingly beautiful like elves always were but this one was a rarity: a high elf. To Flynn’s surprise there was a flash of flirt in the elf’s eyes when he measured the sailor up and down. _Maybe that’s their cultural custom,_ he thought and let his stance relax.

”Welcome, dear customer. I am Arcanomancer Vridiel, at your service. I can weave the very essence of the Arcane into the steel. I have crafted the finest weapons the world has seen with the aid of the Titans themselves. But enough about me, what can I do for you, gorgeous?”

”Oh! Um. I have… a special request. I am searching for a secret entrance…” He was interrupted by Vridiel’s enthusiastic nod and a wink. _Right, I’m in, this is good._

”I understand. Your blade, sir. Would you show it to me, then?”

”What? Oh, yes, by all means,” he grinned and pulled his 7th Legionnaire’s Longsword from its sheath for the quel’dorei to see. _This must be the secret ritual. If I just play along the correct way…_

Vridiel made a show of marvelling the sword from afar and then he lowered his voice, ”May I touch it?” 

”Absolutely, mate. Be my guest.”

The way the elf ran his hand along the flat of the blade sent shivers down Flynn’s spine. ”It is indeed a fine weapon. I think our special stock in the basement would interest you, sir.” The wiggling of the long eyebrows sealed the deal.

 _Bullseye!_ He had done it, and in the first place he chose no less. _Rogues sure are a dirty lot,_ he thought about the choice of words in the password ritual. _Must be fate because so am I._

“Yes, I’d like to see it, please.”

He followed the elf through a small door partially hidden behind a shelf and down the stairs into a bedroom where Vridiel spun around and dropped onto his knees in front of him.

”I’m very eager to examine your hidden weapon more intimately, sir,” he purred and after the initial confusion Flynn shrugged and let him pull his cock out. The thousand human lifetimes of his sudden partner made sure the next hour or so was quite magnificent when it came to blade handling.

Afterwards, lying spread-eagled on the Arcanomancer’s bed Flynn managed to ask some additional albeit vague questions concerning his mission. The elf chuckled, pushing his by now very tangled hair behind his long ear.

“You want the favour of the other shopkeepers? Just let them see a glimpse of _this delight_ and they’ll do anything for you. At least those who are _celebrating.”_ He brushed his knuckles over Flynn’s already clothed crotch winking meaningfully.

“Right. Yes.” _That’s peculiar. Is that another code word or what?_ He got up, thanked Vridiel with a quick peck on the cheek and left the shop feeling somewhat awkward but also very satisfied.

“Welp, that just happened. But I got some good advice.” The same gnome mage happened to pass by again just when he was talking there alone to the walls in general. He suppressed the urge to explain himself and instead set his nose towards the next business establishment in the Magus Commerce Exchange. Another thing his nose did was catch a whiff of a strange perfume in the air. 

“Good morning, welcome to _Fragments of the Past.”_

 _Another blue-eyed high elf,_ Flynn noted, his ears pricking up at her soft, sensual voice. The archaeologist was polishing an artifact that was by the look of it of Mogu origin.

“Good morning,” the sailor started boldly, “I’m looking for a way in, that is, um.” And he failed at his wordings again. _I’m supposed to use the password like it belonged to me, damn it._

The elf tilted her head playfully, put aside her task and leaned her hands on the counter, the neckline of her robe revealing her ample bosom. How could such a fragile being be so curvy? “Take your time, handsome. I won’t charge you for that.” _What is it with this city and thirsty high elves? Are they all bored of each other’s company after thousands of years of coexistence?_

“A weapon,” Flynn blurted, frowning, perplexed at the stir in his loins. _Didn’t I just – what the hell?_

“A weapon. Where did you find it? Do you have it with you?” And sure enough her eyes shortly travelled south to return quickly to the captain’s warming face.

“I… yes. I do,” and his hand, quite on its own he thought, tapped the front of his pants like the lewdest pirate recently disembarked from a long voyage.

“Mmm, I dig that. Come, let me take you upstairs where I keep the most recent findings. I’m sure I’ll find a suitable slot for your piece.” She was already ascending the stairs, hips swaying enticingly. Flynn was baffled by his sudden increase of stamina and indeed his appetite, but both future prospects made him follow her swiftly – this might be the right place to get to the Uncrowned and if not, well, why not help the needy when he could?

“My name’s Dariness. What’s yours, young man?” She called from the upper gallery and her colorful gown slid off her shoulders pooling around her ankles. Flynn had to think a moment to remember the correct answer.

After the enjoyable burrowing of the proverbial password the captain didn’t have the heart to dig for more information lest she realize this wasn’t what he had been after. They got dressed and tidied their clothing in warm comfortable silence and with a charming smile that was answered in kind Flynn left the shop.

Humming a merry shanty under his breath he peeked inside the Alchemy shop and withdrew immediately. “I hope I’m not being too racist but I draw a line to missing bits of flesh.” Giggling to himself at the obvious boning joke his eyes met blue, inquisitive ones under a pointy hat about the level of his knees. He stepped inside the next shop to escape the awkwardness.

He wasn’t about to give up. It would be so sweet to surprise Master Shaw by both showing his resourcefulness in finding the secret rogue place on his own and by becoming a member without his help. _I must have done something wrong before,_ he pondered. _How about a more direct approach?_

The establishment he had entered was an engineering shop. It smelled of engine oil, copper and something weirdly sweet that he couldn’t figure out what it was. A short humanoid shaped robot counted bills in a corner. A cute goblin lady with her dark hair on ponytails greeted him cheerily. 

”Welcome to _Like Clockwork!_ We can fix all your machines and build ones you didn’t even know you needed! I’m Didi, at your service.”

Her Common was impeccable, which made Flynn forget any connection to the Horde he might otherwise have with the small green folk. He knew goblins weren’t prudish at all and she was minding the place alone so he approached the counter briskly.

”I am looking for an _entrance_ to the _celebrations_ and I have the _emblem_ here.” He tapped his belt meaningfully.

”I seeee. Lemme check the goods first,” she drawled, grinning with a flirt, eyes devouring the handsome Kul Tiran. ”A girl has to make sure it’s worth her lunch break, you understand?”

Flynn pulled his cock out and placed it on the table with a _thud._ To his utter surprise it was half hard again and stiffened further under Didi’s wide-eyed and clearly approving observation.

”Brassbolt, mind the shop for half an hour, I’m taking a break.” She considered a moment, then added, ”On a second thought, make that an hour. Your spanner will get a real pounding, cutie.” She jumped from behind the counter, took Flynn’s hand and led him to the furthest wall where a hidden door opened after a complicated sequence of pushing colorful buttons.

 _Alright, it’s a secret entrance. There’s still a chance,_ he thought weakly but lost hope for his mission and also his pants very soon after the door closed behind them. In addition to their frankness it turned out that at least this particular goblin was apt in tournament level riding. He was never going to look at a wrench the same way again.

His trusty jacket’s pockets filled with complimentary clockwork toys Flynn stepped out onto the street. Shuffling through rose petals on the cobblestones he wondered what hilarious spell had hit him today and what on Azeroth could be the real password.

“I mean, abundant random sex is fun and all, but that’s not gonna win Mathias over,” he mumbled, eyes searching for the gnome who, sure enough, was right there some yards away lighting a street lamp. He waved back at him.

 _Fine, one more time with this method, then I’m taking a break._ He chose _Talismanic Textiles,_ a tailoring shop, as his next target. Beautiful, rich fabrics hung from the ceiling of the two-storey room lit by magic and candles. Behind the counter a tall, white-haired night elf man nodded in welcome. His hair was long and loose, and he had moustache like the thick whiskers of a catfish.

“My name is Ainderu Summerleaf, welcome to our shop,” he said with a voice so soft it would soothe a berserker troll.

Flynn slammed his dick on the table, slowly getting used to the level of ridiculousness and exhibitionism this mission had become. Bluffing was going to be in a great role but so was his ever-growing poker face. It stayed on even when he noticed what else was growing – yet again.

”I demand an entry to the party. I know you know what I’m talking about. I know there are secret rooms below us.”

“Well, if you put it like that, sir… I don’t usually engage in such relations with other races but your argument is somewhat... weighty. Follow me.”

In a small storage room full of yarns and fabrics Captain Fairwind learned many innovative uses for a sturdy handloom but, alas, not the location of the Hall of Shadows.

Back in the daylit Dalaran streets Flynn was forced to think his tactics over. He walked onward deep in thought, giving way to the gnome in a narrow street curve. “Right. Obviously that or any version of it isn’t the password. What do I do now?” Remembering to shut up yet again he absentmindedly admired the purple dinner suit Mr. Summerleaf had given him before he escaped the textile shop. _A bit too revealing for official parties but maybe in a more intimate setting…_ The face of the Spymaster flashed in his mind, his cock hardened and a meaningful revelation was almost upon him.

“By the tides–”

“Hello, sailor. You must be a long way from home since we don’t even have a harbor.”

“I, um. Hello.” He grinned at the beautiful face of yet another high elf lady who was leaning on the doorframe of her shop. Her long hair curled over her shoulder and her robe was of a scandalously thin fabric. An alluring scent surrounded her. She extended her hand towards Flynn and he watched curiously as his hand rose and took it.

“I am Olisarra. Me and my colleague Angelique are in dire need of a practice partner. You see, dear sir, we got this shipment of new bandages that we need to test and one can bind herself only so much. Your _field pack_ seems very adequate for our purposes. The treatment is on the house, of course.”

The captain easily ignored the flaw in her reasoning and assumed they needed a human, or a male, or whatever he had that they lacked between them. It became very clear very soon what it was and he didn’t mind at all, especially when bound like that all he could do was lie back and enjoy.

“Damn, I completely forgot to ask them about the Uncrowned.” He stuffed the heart-shaped chocolate box into his jacket pocket and left the First Aid shop. _I need to concentrate, else this whole visit goes sideways. No more slamming my junk on the table. And I should choose the places more carefully._

He looked around checking the shop names for a clue. There must be some hints in there, how else do the new rogues know where to go the first time? _The Threads of Fate_ sounded promising, he decided, and entered through the door into a thick scent of masculine cologne. Before he knew it he was entangled in fur, claws and fangs, heated growls escaping his and his partner’s throats. 

“Alright, what the Helheim was that?” he blurted after recovering from the passionate confrontation with the worgen haberdasher. Richard Hatstock shrugged, pulled his pants back on, and in a puff of hair and magic shapeshifted into his human form.

“I have no idea, mate. It’s not even a full moon and I’ve been like this all week. I apologize. Hope I didn’t wound you?”

“No, no, I’m fine. It was… excellent. Thank you.” _Will probably be sore after I calm down._ “Please tell me you know a way to enter a secret assassin headquarters? I know this isn’t the proper way to get in but Mathias Shaw knows me personally.” He looked at the Gilnean man with pleading eyes and noticed he had the same cut and style of facial hair as the mentioned Spymaster, down to the curled moustaches. Something warm fluttered in his chest, different from the carnality just before.

“Sorry. Wish I could help you.”

Picking a short curly hair from between his teeth Flynn stumbled out to the street again. A group of people dressed in pink dresses and red dinner suits went past him laughing and flirting heavily. _Concentrate. No more entering into a building without careful checking first. Avoid anyone who looks suspiciously lustful._

He peeked furtively inside _The Wonderworks._ The shopkeeper was nowhere to be found, and seeing all the toys around the room he decided to be quite relieved about it. The next door he opened just slightly led into an art gallery. The blood elf minding the place didn’t look particularly amorous so he braved entering.

“If you don’t have the antidote, please turn around and leave,” he said haughtily without even sparing a glance at the captain. Flynn stood there confused staring at the man until the elf spun around impatience written all over his manner. “This happens every year. I don’t understand why you people don’t learn. I’m afraid I’ll be closing down for today, welcome back next week, there’s a good man.” He all but pushed him out of the doorway.

“What was that about? He must have confused me with someone else,” he said to the air in general which consisted of a streetlamp magically lighting beside him.

 _The Militant Mystic,_ with all the wands and staves made him walk past it; seeing the leather harnesses in _Langrom’s Leather & Links _ had him back off slowly.

 _“Glorious Goods?_ Who in the hells picks these names? Now that sounds like a place where I truly need to work my _goods_ off, if you know what I mean,” he nodded to the passing gnome. “I think I’ll skip that one too.”

The sun was setting and an irresistible yawn coupled with a growl of his tummy alerted him to choose the _Legerdemain Lounge_ right there in the center of the city instead of any more browsing the shops. He paid for one night to the human innkeeper without looking her in the eye, ordered a meal and a bath to his room with rigorous instructions for the delivery staff not to interact with him in any way whatsoever.

 _I’m starting to sound like Master Mathias,_ he chuckled to himself rising the stairs of the inn. The soft luxurious rugs caressed his bare feet, the fresh linen felt wonderful against his skin, and shortly after the bath and the food he was snoring like a satisfied dog.

In the morning he slipped out fast without facing anyone, not trusting his self-control anymore. Across the street from where he stood was _One More Glass,_ a wine and cheese shop.

 _I’ll try just this one and then give up. I can buy a bottle of their best wine as a souvenir,_ he comforted himself and stepped in. A young human male with short golden hair greeted him.

”Good morning, sir. Welcome to our family shop. Lucian Trias at your service.”

“Look, I’m just going to ask, ok? Does ‘showing the insignia’ mean anything special to you? Like a password or something?”

“Ah, I was told to expect you. Here, go through this door – quickly so no-one sees it.”

He couldn’t believe it. Finally he had found the legendary Hall of Shadows! It must be _under_ the Underbelly judging by the depth the stairs took him. It was gloomy, a scarce candle here and there lighting the way. Filthy water flowed slowly from the sewer pipes into the channels beside the paved path, spider webs hung overhead with some rags that were perhaps forgotten decorations. There were a couple of pirates, thieves and peacekeepers loitering in the passages but the place seemed awfully deserted. The bar appeared to be the busiest nook there and Flynn asked a goblin bartender for guidance and also a stiff drink, thank you very much.

“Oh yeah, it’s _you_ isn’t it? The famous Love Festival hero. He’s waiting for you down in the Chamber. Yank that torch.”

After downing the brandy in one go he descended the wide steps behind a bookshelf door - finally the proper roguish camouflage he had been dying to see! - and walked under a stone arch into a hexagonal assembly hall. There was a long table with candelabra and some food trays on it. Spymaster Mathias Shaw was sitting at the end of it, behind a pile of official looking papers. Seeing him made Flynn’s heart skip a beat. Shaw watched him approach the other end of the table and smiled.

“You could have asked me if you wanted to train as a spy.”

“Uh, erm. I wanted it to be a surprise.” _I wanted to impress you._

“The Uncrowned, unfortunately, aren’t that active anymore.” He stood up and walked around the table to the mildly disappointed captain. “I’ve heard the complete opposite said of you, however.” There was a mix of amusement and something else on Shaw’s face, something Flynn wasn’t sure how to interpret. Not flirt, surely?

“It seemed to work! I mean, they were all so happy to indulge me and... afterwards I got gifts and food…” His voice trailed off, embarrassed before the man he admired enormously. ”You know how it is.”

“I really don’t.” Mathias took a small vial of green liquid from his pauldron pocket and pressed it on Flynn’s palm. “Drink this. You didn’t know about the Love Festival? I guess it’s not a Kul Tiran tradition. Every year during the festivities the crooks at Crown Chemicals Company manage to crash the party with their modified perfumes. Everyone’s been terribly amorous again and for some reason also full of mischief this year. Half of the concoctions increase sexual stamina enormously. It’s probably a new mixture. We needed to locate and raid their alchemy lab, again.”

“Oh. ...OH.” Flynn wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry. He stared at the vial in his hand. “What’s this?”

“An antidote.” Shaw’s voice was deep and warm and it made the captain’s desire stir again. _Oh no, not with him I won’t._ He popped the cork off and drank the liquid in one go.

“I didn’t want to do them all! I mean. I did, but... I like a good shag as much as the next person but this was a bit much. One would have been enough. Or maybe three. Damn. Some drug, eh?”

“Indeed. We can think yesterday never happened if that makes you feel better. And if you still want training I could probably find some free time in my schedule to teach you.”

“But you’re always so busy… I wanted to be more useful to you and… for you to think more highly of me.” To both their surprise Flynn averted his eyes at the confession.

“The Alliance holds you in high regard for all your help in the war, captain,” Shaw mused, green eyes watching keenly at the intriguing and rare sight of a bashful Flynn Fairwind in front of him. “I don’t think you need to prove your worth any further.”

“But I meant… uh, when will the antidote start working?”

“It should have been immediate.”

“But... _._ ” His eyes darted down his body. _“Oh.”_

The air felt heavy between them when their gaze met again. 

“Um. Are you here on some mission, then, Spymaster?”

“No, Flynn. I came here for you.” He placed his warm palm on Flynn’s cheek sending pleasurable ripples through his being. Hearing his given name without titles made him take the small step forward changing their position from friendly to intimate.

“Just hold me, please? Sex at this point would feel kinda cheap.”

“Of course. I like taking things slowly,” Mathias murmured as he drew Flynn in an embrace and pressed his lips on his.


End file.
